The Frozen Sword
Armored Scavenger's fan-fiction. Hope you enjoy reading this and helpful comments are welcome! :) Setting: '''The Kingdom of Kalda, a scavenger nation located in the Ice Kingdom. At the time the events in this story take place, the sovereign of the kingdom is King Jarl XIV. '''Time: '''The story takes place between the WoF books "The Brightest Night" and "Moon Rising." Both the dragon and human worlds are in a state of peace. '''The Kingdom of Kalda Nation Story My Dear Friend and Benefactor, You were right and I should have trusted in you from the start. The Northern Land was not worth traveling to and I am afraid the wealth we would gain will never come to be. Oh, even as I write to you my hands are nearly frozen through and the Bonepickers are on my tail. Axe-wielders and the Great Cold have decimated our small band of explorers and traders, and we return to you in ever fewer numbers. The weather is so frosty and harsh that it is a miracle that man ever made it up to the glistening sea. My eyes will never rest upon that mythical Northern Sea, where tales of islands of pearls and ivory would be waiting. No, alas I am coming home to you. I will make it all up to you, Your Grace. I do not care what you make me do to repay you for this unfruitful expedition, so as long as you never send me back up North again. We were the ones that were naive. Not the Bonepickers, the Northmen. How they killed our most prominent merchant! Never would I have believed that those men would realize they were being swindled! How viciously they struck with their axes, without warning and without negotiation. They laughed as hyenas laugh in their mischievous ways. My Grace, do not think they are as intelligent as I make them sound. Afterwards they hunted us like dogs, with their grizzly beards, mighty arms, and uncivilized weapons. They drink like fish, laughing and singing in ways suited for the wilderness. They spilled blood as if it were mead, and they spilled mead galore. Dragon bones, teeth, and scales are scattered around as trophies. '' ''Never shall I return. None of our countrymen should ever cross the tundra from the milder desert to the Dragon's Head. Let those men, those monstrosities, remain in their wasteland. Kalda, as they call it, is the final frontier that the peoples of the world cannot cross. '' -Unknown explorer and author, c. 1700 BTS Prologue ''Dear Father, You know that we cannot wait any longer for Orm to find our stolen relic, not ever since Grettir insulted the Jarl of Grenivik and you had to pay him 1000 krona so that your beloved son wouldn't have to face him in a duel, a duel that Grettir would have most definitely lost. Both the dragon raids and the poor fishing season have ruined us, much so that we will never be able to pay the King the yearly fee for our part of the land! He will take our lands and home and force us to walk the streets to beg for our food. I know that relic is important to us because it will allow us to keep our lands and we wouldn't have to pay that terrible fee anymore. I know you don't believe that I can do it, for you would rather send one of my brothers. But Grettir is untrustworthy and the other two are far too young. Father, you know you cannot make the journey yourself for your age slows you down, but trust ''me. I know you will be worried about me, your eldest and only daughter going off alone, but have faith in me. Before you know it a heavy weight will be lifted from our shoulders, and we will be able to live on our land alone. That other jarl and his family will be kicked out, and everything will be rightfully ours again.'' Love, Thora Magnusdottir, Forever Your Daughter Chapter 1: The Dragon's Head Rocky fjords and jagged cliffs jutted out towards the cold, sharp sea, where fish and seal teemed while the white seagull swooped down towards the shore and the raven scavenged the ground, keeping a dark eye out for a wolf. The gritty sand crunched under the heavy boots of a young girl, a woman whose patience had finally been long since tested. Thora's cheek blushed red from the freezing air whirling around her head, blowing her hair every which way it pleased. Hair the color of the doe's hide that the men often brought back to their homes to skin and to cut into different chops and sausages after a long day of hunting in the forests. Thora continued moving towards a destination she knew lay ahead, though the rocks nearly made the path impossible to pass and the frigid water was only a few dangerous steps away to her left side. It would take only one unfortunate mistake and she could plunge into the waters, risking her health in terrifying ways such as contracting pneumonia or become a victim of a savage wild animal attack. She was careful, however, to avoid such a wet or bloody fate. The young girl had spent much time in the outdoors, walking through snowy pastures, balancing on tall boulders and high fences alike, and every ditch on her way from her father's cabin to the small fishing town of Lundr were thoroughly explored and stepped in by two brown buckskin boots. A map of the path was burrowed deep into her mind, so much so that it came as quickly and as brightly as instinct. I can see the White Rocks over past this turn. The town is only a few minutes away. Thora was diligent in her travels, for she was expecting to meet with a significant person as soon as she reached the little fishing port. It had been two days too long for the juvenile, whose patience may have been gifted with a long waiting period, but was vulnerable to new excitement related to things she had never experienced before. The young woman crossed over the White Rocks, a field of wicked and sharp white rocks that pointed into the air like mammoth's tusks. It was one of the many wonders Thora was pleased to encounter, and it made her trip more worthwhile on that blustery, cloudy day. The sea hurled itself at the shoreline, a string of fine beaches dotted with kelp and shells of crabs and mollusks. The eyes of the young girl never were staring straight ahead, but rather they flew from the left and to the right to take in the great natural world of her homeland. The White Rocks signified the beginning of a whole chain of boulders and stones that had fallen from the cliff overlooking the sea and crashed into the sand below. Occasionally a rock would tumble down from the cliffs or stone walls, and even less so was the chance that one of them would bring terrible injury to an unlucky passerby. The poor dog that was found crushed last week had died not too far away from here. Grettir had wanted to go see it, but how is it worth it to leave the safety of home for a day-long trip just to poke it with a stick. And he has the nerve to tel me that I am doing the same thing now. No, he just can't face the fact that I'm the one who is now going to become the head of the family when Father passes on. Thora, daughter of Magnus, trekked past one final bend in the coast before the town of Tundr's outermost walls began to come into her view. The old red brick still stood in its original spot for the past hundred years, but much of what was there in the first place was long gone or broken. Pieces of brick or entire ones lay at the fence's side. There were large gaps along the walls, and spots where the wall had been disconnected. It had been meant for sheep, but now it only served as a reminder of what was and a landmark to what remained. Grass and dirt turned into a sodden path as the boots of Thora walked over a dirt path leading into the town. Tundr was a small fishing village, and 'small' was a far kinder word to describe the settlement than many others. The town was situated among the rocks, including the harbor and practically every house. It was normal for a large boulder to rest next to a home, or lie in the middle of the main roads. The townspeople put them to great use as they carved ancient Kaldan runes into their surfaces. The Common Tongue was predominate throughout Pyrrhia, a basis for all trade and interaction among different tribes. In Kalda, however, it were the runic languages of Maten ''and ''Narour ''that were written and spoken by the Northern peoples. Those two languages had never been altered since the Time of Brimstone, or the Age of Falling. They even went further back to the time of the Three Kingdoms of Val, Trisen, and Gorfa, but many letters and meanings were changed, for time also changed. Lundr housed only a small number of families, possibly three or four permanent residential households. The House of Holger, led by the petty earl Jarl Torsten Knudsen, held whatever power it could hold on to in this settlement. The House never was significant in history, but it was one that had contently lived in Lundr for many a generation. The home of this House lived among the common folk near the harbor in a wooden Kaldan home that was neither fancy nor ramshackle. Merchants and fisherman crossed paths with the town every day in order to sell what they had brought with them or caught in the sea. Some set up shop in the streets, while others did their business inside the local tavern, the only place that was open to everyone. Thora skulked past fallen buildings and ones that were about to collapse. Many had been abandoned for some time, whether intentional or not. The rocks and destroyed sections of the town gave the perfect atmosphere of being void of human life. People went to great lengths to keep the ice dragons from ever returning to finish the village off. The silvery dragons, the ''fraedeka, ''with their tint of the moons may have lived in the snowy tundra further up north, but that did not mean any of them wouldn't follow the coast line up or down while flying and that brings about a chance of them possibly spotting the town of Lundr. Thora spent nearly an hour waiting on on one of the docks of the small harbor, watching the rough seas crash into the land. Birds flew through the sky above the boats that were sailing or coming into port with their goods to trade. Cold wind smacked Thora in the face, but she did not even flinch. She heard a door open and from a small wooden house behind her a man walked to her. "What did he say, Uncle Cnut?" asked Thora to the man. He was tall and strong, his tunic could not hide his muscular build. His face was more child-like, and he didn't look at all like a mighty, brave viking. He was a merchant in the port, and not a very persuasive or successful one. "The Harbormaster didn't agree. He won't let us leave port until tomorrow," sighed Cnut. Thora did not think highly of her uncle, who seemed to be the opposite of her father, Magnus. Cnut was sensitive, shy, and bad at speaking. Time was not on their side. Soon her father would have to pay his special tax. The King of Kalda divided his land among his jarls based on their loyalty and their claims to the land. Some families have had land for hundreds of years. But the ownership of some other pieces of land is more unclear. A few years ago, someone stole her father's ancient relic, a sword that belonged to the famous viking Ulfar Magnusson. The sword was the only way her father could prove that the land was his, but ever since he lost it he knew he was finished. However, at the ''Thing, ''the King allowed her father to keep his land if he agree to divide it with the another jarl, Ham Gestsson. He also ordered that the two families pay a yearly tax in order to keep their half of the land. Thora swore someone who worked for Ham stole the sword so that he could get her father's land, but she could never find any evidence. Now the sword was her family's only hope. Her brothers couldn't take on the task and neither could her father, who tried once in the past, but failed. He was too old now. Thora brushed past Cnut and barged into the Harbormaster's home. She opened the door quickly with Cnut following close behind her. The harbormaster sat in his chair, taking his eyes off some documents to look at Thora. Two vikings were standing on either side of the door, looking at Thora from top to bottom. They didn't expect a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl to walk in. She wore a fur coat over her leather clothing, with leather gloves and fur boots. She also had a fur cap, but took it off once inside. "What do you want!" asked the harbormaster angrily. "I don't have time for you." "Please, sir, we need to set sail tonight. It is very urgent and we cannot wait until morning," pleaded Thora. "Why should I? Isn't it too dark to sail at night, too dangerous?" said the man. "You let three other boats leave port after we were told to stay here! That's not fair. Besides, we will follow the coast to our destination. The waters will be calm tonight, but tomorrow they will be rough." Thora was trying her best to convince the harbormaster, but he didn't care. "I say you cannot leave, and with your ship in my port you have to do as I say. Unless you want to meet my soldiers, and spend the night in a cold damp cell. My word is final." The man hissed, then he went back to his papers. Thora was unnerved, but she kept her emotions from showing. This man didn't like her father, and he knew that she was his daughter. She knew she couldn't convince this man by any normal means, but perhaps he could be persuaded. Thora pulled out a leather purse and reached into it. She noticed the harbormaster take sneaky peeks at it, then Thora pulled out a handful of coins. She put them on the man's table, and took another handful and did the same. "Fifty ''krona, for your permission to depart," she said slyly. The man smiled at her dumbly. He gathered the coins and began to play with them, rolling them and clinking them together. "One hundred krona, for your departure," said the man, instead of giving her permission. "One hundred!" exclaimed Cnut from the door. The harbormaster watched Thora snobbishly and haughtily. Thora sighed and pulled out double the amount she wanted to bribe him with. He took the money and grinned. "Did I say it was too dangerous? Well, with your skill, perhaps it would be alright. You have my permission to depart. And I like the way you work, my lady." Cnut and Thora walked out the door, listening to the house fill with malicious and greedy laughter. "One hundred, Thora, how could you?" asked a shocked Cnut. "It will all be worth it when we retrieve the sword. Besides, there are some rats that can only be satisfied with money, and they are never satisfied." Chapter 2: Voyage Uncle Cnut was actually a good sailor, to her niece's surprise. The night made it difficult to navigate on open water, especially since neither of them knew how to use the stars to guide them. They could only use the coast to travel north, north where her father had an old family friend. The ship was old and small, but it was quick and easy to steer. Cnut and Thora used the sail to catch the southern wind, which made them both happy that they didn't need to row for most of the voyage. The night sky was clear, filled with stars and two bright moons. Sometimes, if Thora looked at the right time, she could see the outline of a dragon flying through the air with a moon revealing it. It made her uncomfortable, but it was unlikely that it would notice them and attack. They traveled all night long and into the early morning. Thora took the free time she had to think about the world around her. She remembered somewhere that there were dragons that lived and swam in the sea, but it had to be too cold for them to live in these waters, at least she hoped as she looked into the dark sea. Long ago these waters were filled with ships, both merchant and warrior. The vikings would raid the coastal towns and villages, taking all they could bring back home and leaving the rest in ruin. But ever since the dragons took over and the settlements were too poor to raid, the vikings plundered less and less each year. These days, villagers would hire men and women to defend their homes from attacks, many of whom used to raid those very villages themselves. Thora remembered all the famous vikings. Her great-great-great grandfather was a fearsome warrior, but also a superb trader who became immensely wealthy and bought a large chunk of land for himself, the very land her family had lived on ever since. She also thought of her society, run mainly by the men and their sons. As a women she would not inherit her father's land unless her brothers were out of the way. And even if they were, her uncle would probably get it or the jarl that owned half the land already. Not many thought highly of her, not even her own father. But she didn't want to live like some other women she knew, she wanted to make her own choices. She remembered all the famous vikings, and unsurprisingly, the most legendary ones were men. But there was one who was more legendary and tougher than all of them, and that was the famous female viking, Gyda Skarfdottir. She was a mighty viking, and also one of the most successful rulers of Kalda. Queen Gyda was feared by all, and even today her name is well-known. She was Thora's inspiration and role-model. The dim lights of a port behind jagged rocks came into view when the sun was beginning to rise. The two rowed into port and were met by the harbormaster. Unlike the one they had encountered before, this one was far less of a rat. He towed the boat in while Thora and Cnut went into the town to look for a person. Thora's father told her that if anything went wrong, if something happened to him or all of her brothers, like if the rival jarl attacked them, she could go to either Cnut or an old family friend up the coast. Her father had befriended an old sea captain when they were young and lively. This man knew all the hidden places in the tundra and the grottoes near the coast. He knew of many stories and listened to every piece of gossip. If you wanted to know something that others didn't want you to know, he was the man to talk to. Cnut also knew the man, and whenever he traveled to this town he usually stopped by and said hello. Cnut led Thora through the streets until they reached an old tavern at the edge of town. They walked inside and Thora could smell the thick scent of mead. Inside there were lots of men, drinking and telling stories. Some of them were far too drunk and had either collapsed or spoke in slurs to the guy next to him. The tavern keeper cleaned mugs from behind the counter, and eyed the two new potential customers warily. Cnut ordered a mug of mead for himself and some tea for Thora after she refused to drink the stuff. The tavern keeper shrugged and commented on how it was refreshing to serve something else for a change. The two took their drinks to a seat in the back of the tavern where an old man was sitting. The man was taking slow sips of his beverage, but he was really keeping his ears out for someone to mutter something by mistake after they had drank too much. He got much of his information this way, but spending a few hours in the local tavern, listening to all sorts of people talk about things they wouldn't have said if they hadn't stopped in for a few drinks. "Good to see you again, Leif," said Cnut. Leif looked up and smiled, some of his teeth were missing. Chapter 3: Leif Leif offered both of them a seat and even pulled out a chair for Thora. He smirked as she sat down and continued to do so until he himself sat down. He turned to Cnut. "I didn't know you had a daughter. What else have you been keeping from me?" he asked, amused as he took another sip from his mug. "She's not mine, Leif, she's my brother's," Cnut explained. He didn't like the look Leif was giving Thora, but he remained silent. "So, Cnut, last time you saw me was just a few days ago. Why are you back so soon, did you finally quit trading?" "No, Leif, in fact I have made my biggest profit ever this week. Ever since the trade routes have opened up after the war, people from all over have been coming to buy my stock. I knew it was a good change to sell northern fish to the foreigners, even if I have to pay the fisherman half the earnings." Leif chuckled and some of the mead dripped from his mouth. He put the mug down, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and his expression became serious. Thora watched him from her seat, never expecting for this goofy man to look like he did now. "The routes bring in more than trade. Someone sneaked in through with a caravan to the King's castle. Idiot patrols didn't even inspect them. At night he managed to climb the walls and get into the castle itself. He was an assassin, tried to kill Jarl," Leif explained in a dramatic manner, but he wasn't doing it that way to impress his audience. It was news that had shaken him the first time he heard it. "Someone tried to kill the king?" asked Thora under her breath, but Leif clearly heard her. "Fool he was. The king easily captured him by himself, even claiming he did it with one hand and in his nightclothes. Anyways, he made quite a show at the execution, he did a blood eagle. He severed the assassin's ribs and pulled out his lungs. Absolutely terrifying." Leif said this with a disturbed tone, but his head quickly shot up as if he never uttered any of it. "Sooo...what are you here to see me about?" Thora spoke before Cnut could. It was her mission, and she wouldn't let anyone else explain it for her. "Listen, Leif, we know that you hear a lot of things in this tavern, things no one would say without a bit of mead," she said. Leif had his head turned to Cnut as he expected to listen to the man, but his eyes were all on Thora. Thora gazed into Leif's blue eyes and then her own eyes studied the man's blonde hair and the tiny scars on his face. She imagined how he looked twenty years ago and who he was back then. "I hear things, but what thing that I have heard do you want to hear?" said Leif. Leif began to hum to himself an old tune that he had heard from a sailor that had come in earlier that day. "Oh, nothing much. But have you heard anything about, say, the sword of Ulfar? The one with the ancient runes on it and..." Leif interrupted. "Yeah, I know that sword." He sat back in his chair. "Maybe I know something, maybe I don't. What are you willing to give me for that information, it's not free, you know. And Cnut, it doesn't matter if we are friends. Business is business, but I'm sure as a merchant you already knew that." Cnut had begun to say something, but Leif had taken those words out of his mouth. He shut his mouth and looked at Thora. "What do you want?" asked Thora, who then took the last sip of her tea. The tea was bland in flavor, but it did warm her up more than any fire or any woolen blanket. "Yesterday, or maybe the day before that, I heard someone mention the sword, after all these years, can you believe it?! It sounded like she was a deckhand or a servant, but she said something sort of like this: 'The King almost died, and that would have been our chance. Too bad he lived, but whoever was the assassin sure got a heck of a death. At least it wasn't anyone we knew; this appeared to be random. Anyway, it's safe. Lets get out of here and head back to the fjord, I hate town scum.' And then they left." Leif had not stated a price. "A fjord you say?" There were a lot of fjords in Kalda, most of them not even shown on any map. Which one would they start looking at first? "Wait, they? Who else was there?" wondered Thora. Leif smiled, happy to give out that information. "Someone with a shield, a shield with a very interesting design. I believe it depicted a wolf, perhaps, howling at the moon, a white wolf." Cnut's eyes went wide and his mouth was grinning with realization. "The Legend of the White Wolf! Jarl Vestar's banner depicts that wolf! I know the fjord, the one in the story! Of course, that's where the sword is!" Cnut was smiling with pride, Thora was feeling relieved that they had gotten somewhere, and Leif was also happy, but not exactly because the two had figured it all out. "And now for my price, a reasonable one if I might add. I want a talon, an ice dragon talon. It would be worth a lot, not money-wise for me but as a trophy to display in my home. I already have some scales, a tooth and a piece of bark with some dragon frost on it, but not a single talon." Thora sat up, but when everyone in the tavern looked at her she sat right back down. "Are you insane! That's impossible!" she cried, refusing to find and get what Leif wanted. "Too late, I already told you the information, so it's your time to pay for it. And I suggest you do, many others have went to great lengths to hear want they wanted. If they heard you got it for free, they will find you and I can't imagine what they would do," he explained, but not in a very worried or concerned way. "Cnut, saying it was for a friend won't cut it, some of them are my friends as well, and far more powerful." Thora gritted her teeth. She had no choice, if she didn't pay him it would cause more trouble for her father. "Fine, you'll get your talon." She then stormed out of the tavern, with Cnut running after her. The rest of the tavern must have been eavesdropping on their conversation, because they were all laughing their hearts out after the two had left. Leif returned to his slow drinking, listening for more carelessly spoken pieces of gossip and rumors. Chapter 4: Wolf King Cnut and Thora rented a room at the inn above the tavern for the upcoming night. For a cheap bargain they had received a two-bed room all to themselves for the day, which they spent going through town gathering supplies and planning their adventure. More than ever, Thora counted on this mission to get her father his sword back, but now she had to rely on Cnut far more than she thought would be possible. She did not know the Legend of the White Wolf, but Cnut apparently did, and without his help there was no way of her finding the right fjord or getting their safely. That night they had stored all of their belongings in their room for the upcoming morning. Thora had had quite a bit of money to spend in the town, thanks to her father's extravagant generosity. She still had enough money to bribe anyone else who stood in their way, such as the harbormaster. For all of the food, for better clothing, and for some skis, Thora had paid well over a thousand krona, an amount unimaginable for most of the city's inhabitants. As the daughter of the jarl, Thora had a large purse, and the entire town knew that as well. To Cnut's quiet outrage they charged them far higher than the normal price, but making a scene would not fair well for either of them so they contently accepted. That night Cnut finally told Thora the Legend of the White Wolf. He was surprised that she did not know it yet and had expected her father to have told it to her already. Throughout the frozen land there were many famous legends about a particular place or a particular person, and this legend happened to have both and much more. Cnut began to tell the tale. "Let me tell you first, Thora, that this legend is possibly the favorite of Jarl Vestar's and even your father's. It is actually part of a collection of stories about Hadvar Stefansson, or who we more famously know him as the Wolf King. Hadvar was born alone on the frozen plains, left to die without even having a chance at life. But something extraordinary happened instead. A pack of wolves welcomed him into their family, raised him as a beast, and forever he remained one. He was born under three full moons, slept under them, and drank from the water the wolves drank. If that did not satisfy the requirements for becoming a werewolf, than maybe it was his curse as well and the reason he was left for dead. Anyways, at day he was man, but at night he was beast," Cnut said. Thora had never heard this story before, and rarely was told of werewolves. Werewolves were just legends, but wolves were real. They hunted in packs at both day and night for elk and deer, and sometimes they attacked villagers or travelers. Both beasts, real or not, were dangerous, and she had a feeling that her adventure was about to become far more tougher than she anticipated. Cnut continued on. "He had no magic; he was cursed, or perhaps it was really a gift. He acted like a wolf, devouring and killing people at night while at day he either had forgotten doing any of the killings or some faint memories lingered in his mind. The Wolf King was feared, and hunting parties searched for him at all times of the day. One day the king of of that time, Gunther Gunthersson, went out during the evening to find the Wolf King. He found Hadvar alone, but just when he was sure that he was going to kill him, the moon came out and it was night. The King watched in terror as Hadvar turned into a werewolf, and he was too frozen in fear to save himself. Gunther was killed, and at dawn the Wolf King fled to hide in a cave along the eastern coast. The entire nation would be after him now, and the new King as well," Cnut concluded. "What happened next?" Thora asked. Cnut smiled. "That is just one of the legends. I could tell you more, like about his army of werewolves that almost took over the kingdom, or his famous last stand on top of Pike Bluff and his underwater tomb. But I guess what is most important now is the location of the sword." Thora stood up for a moment. What was the point of this legend, and why did it matter that Jarl Vestar's banner was inspired by it? What help would Leif's information be? Had this all been a waste of time? "Cnut, how do you know that the sword is in that cave!?" pressed on Thora carefully. Cnut grinned for a second as if he thought that she was joking when she doubted his intellect, but then he took a second to think and realized his idea wasn't as well-thought out as he thought it sounded. "Well, I..." Cnut began to say. "Are you kidding me, Cnut! What good is your legend if we don't know if it will help us. Sure, we have an idea of where to look, based on your simple idea that the story and the jarl's banner's connection to each other means anything. It doesn't mean that the sword is there, it doesn't mean it is in that particular cave, it doesn't mean anything concrete, Cnut." Thora looked at him with fury. Their only lead was outrageous when put into perspective and added with logic. The sword had no connection to the story, of course, and what did that servant or deckhand have to do with anything? Leif had said that the servant mentioned the sword, but he did not provide a quote as proof like he did about some sinister plan that had failed. "My legend is the only thing we have, Thora. Whether you like it or not, it is our only plan and the only one we will have. It is too late to find a new location, too late to look for more clues," Cnut said unexpectedly. "Because..." Thora stopped after she heard something from outside the room. It sounded like the quick movement of heavy footsteps. She and Cnut looked around, then at each other. "Because we spent so much time on your plan and your drunk friend Leif's advice..." Thora muttered. "You did not think that before. You had faith in me before, so why not have some for me now?" Cnut said pleadingly. Thora remained silent, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall with her eyes on the glowing candle. Cnut sighed and went to bed, and Thora did the same soon after. The next morning the two woke up and got ready, but for what they didn't know anymore. They dressed warmly, armed themselves, packed their food into bags and medical supplies in easy-to-reach pockets. In their arms were skis and after cleaning up the room they went to walk out the door. When they tried to open it, someone from outside slammed it shut. "What!?" Cnut exclaimed. He tried to get the door open. "Hey, what are you doing!?" He knocked and knocked, then he slammed his shoulder into the door to break it free. Someone from the other side was keeping it closed! "Get out of the bloody way! Thora, I think whoever we heard yesterday night is keeping us in! We have been spied upon, Thora," Cnut said grimly. Thora stood in the room, looking at Cnut's attempt to open the door and push whoever was outside out of the way. She heard a commotion coming from downstairs, with a voice that sounded like the tavern-keeper's. "Cnut, that means you are right. You were right about it all. The sword is located in the Wolf King's cave. No wonder someone is keeping us here; someone doesn't want us to get out and get our hands on the sword. They listened to us, and when they realized we were going to head to the cave they quickly left to beat us to it. Someone is buying someone else some time," Thora realized and explained. After perhaps an hour or so, the door finally opened. The person who kept it closed had left, and both Thora and Cnut ran out of the room with their supplies. They saw the tavern-keeper tending to his duties, but Thora could see he was disturbed and more quiet than usual. The two ran outside. Cnut led Thora to the route that would take them to the cave. Sure enough, on the snow-covered trail there were footprints. Someone had beat them to the punch. Chapter 5: Category:Content (Armored Scavenger) Category:Fanfictions Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete) Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)